Spurred by Thoughts of Mistletoe
by Shadow Faerie of Twilight
Summary: It's Christmas time at the Burrow during the Golden Trio's seventh year and Ron and Hermione are GASP not bickering every five minutes? Have things changed since their sixth year? What happens when they begin to acknowledge how they feel? RWHG


This could be the last Christmas we ever spend together… What's going to happen to us if we can't figure out the Horcruxes? What if I never end up with my happily ever after?

"Hermione!"

Hermione jumped about a foot and tumbled off her bed, hitting the floor with a dull thud. _Okay, OW…_ Hermione stood up and brushed off her flannel pajamas before hurriedly sticking her bare feet into a pair of slippers.

"Hermione, are you awake yet?"

Sighing in annoyance, Hermione shouted back, "Yes, Gin, I'm awake!"

Her door burst open and Ginny marched into the room, her flaming hair swaying with each step. "About time, I thought you weren't one to oversleep," she commented, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"I didn't oversleep, I've been awake since seven," protested Hermione, sitting down beside her friend.

"Well what have you been doing for the past hour?" inquired Ginny.

"Thinking," said Hermione quietly and solemnly. Ginny was taken aback at the serious tone. Hermione shook her head. "Anyway, what's so urgent that you had to break the door down?" she asked with a grin.

"OH, well, it's ONLY Christmas Eve, Hermione. We have decorations to finish!" she replied.

"At eight in the morning?" asked Hermione incredulously.

"Well, after breakfast of course…" Ginny rolled her eyes as if it should have been obvious.

"Well, why don't we go eat breakfast, then?"

Ginny grinned and then dashed out of the room. _No fair, head start!_ Hermione ran after her, careful not to trip on her way down the stairs of the Burrow. Then as she reached a landing, without any warning a door opened to her left; a tall redhead appeared and both of them let out an 'oof' as Hermione collided with him and nearly sent them both to the ground. Hermione suddenly found two large hands on her shoulders; she blushed. _And the heart goes a-fluttering…_

"Merlin, Er-my-nee, are you an' Ginny racing again?" mumbled Ron drowsily. "What's gotten into you lately anyway?"

"Sorry Ron," she apologized as he released her and yawned, leaning sleepily against the doorjamb of the bathroom. "But your sister is rather spunky in the morning for some reason."

Ron gave a lop-sided grin as he rubbed his eyes. _Oh dear, there's goes my heart again…_ "Yeah, I've noticed that the past sixteen-odd years," he said amusedly.

"Anyway," began Hermione, restraining the urge to fidget, "Ginny said that breakfast is ready, if you're hungry…"

Ron chuckled, still a bit bleary-eyed. "Hermione, when have you known me to not be hungry?"

Hermione laughed, if a little nervously. "Well, I'll see you at breakfast then."

"It's a date," said Ron jokingly before closing the door.

Hermione resisted the temptation to repeatedly knock her head against the wall._ AUGH, why did he have to become so darn charming all of a sudden!_ _That boy is going to be the death of me…Things seem so… different…_ She continued down the stairs looking pensive. _I mean, after last year… with Lavender, Ron getting poisoned, and Dumbledore's funeral… Things have changed so much… but then why do I feel like I'm getting nowhere? He technically said he loved me last year, but that was over a bit of parchment… or was it something more? AUGH, I've been over this before… but… it just felt so right when he was holding me as I cried…I wish he'd hold me like that without some tragedy having to occur… I wonder if we'll ever end up together… I mean, if I wanted to I could just come out and tell him that I love him as more than a friend… he's shown on more than one occasion that he feels the same way… besides, why else would he always get so fiercely jealous and protective? But then… what if I'm imagining it all? How could he ever fall in love with someone like me? Bookish, bushy-haired, bossy Hermione… I just wish…_

"What's up Hermione, you get lost or something?"

Hermione jumped for the second time that morning and found Ginny waiting for her at the foot of the stairs.

"No, Gin, I literally ran into your brother and—"

"Got distracted?" snickered Ginny.

Hermione raised her hand to smack Ginny upside the head, but the youngest Weasley was too quick for her and rushed off toward the kitchen. Hermione sighed and followed her to breakfast.

"ARGH, why can't we just use a little magic, Mum! I really don't think the Ministry would mind all that much…"

"Oh yes they would, Ginevra Weasley. You know the rules. Besides, You-Know-Who's followers might be able to trace it," reprimanded Molly Weasley.

"Fine," Ginny pouted and went back to the garland on the fireplace that had been giving her so much trouble.

Hermione was standing back and admiring her work on the ribbons for the tree. She scooped them up from the table and dumped them into an unsuspecting Harry's arms. He raised his eyebrows.

"Oh don't look at me like that, Harry," she chided, "you should be enjoying Christmas while it's here, so get busy," she added, nodding at the tree.

Harry shrugged and turned to the bare Christmas tree while Hermione ran over things in her mind. _Let's see… got the ribbons done… what else do I have to do… _ Scanning the room she spotted a few sprigs of mistletoe lying on the table. _Ah-hah! A bit of ribbon, and I can hang that in the entryway!_ Hermione picked up a spare bit of ribbon and sat down to tie the mistletoe together. She glanced up as she worked, only to see Ron relaxing on the couch while every other member of his family was bustling about decorating. She smirked to herself and tossed a throw pillow at him. She giggled when he jolted, obviously startled as it collided with his head; he turned to look at her.

"What was that for?" he asked disbelievingly.

"You could be doing something useful, you know," she taunted.

"What do you mean? I'm being useful."

Hermione snorted in a rather un-lady-like manner. "By sitting there?"

"Yes!" Ron protested, grinning. "I'm observing the decorating and making sure everything looks good."

Hermione shook her head, smiling softly and went back to the mistletoe. Eventually she believed she had made it as perfect as it was going to get and went to the entryway to hang it from a small hook in the ceiling. She reached up and only then realized just how short she was—her hand was over a foot away from the ceiling. She sighed gruffly and glanced around, searching for something to stand on.

"Honestly, Hermione, you can't do everything by yourself," reprimanded Ron, who had just appeared beside her.

Before Hermione could protest, he had scooped her up into his arms and held her up so she could put the mistletoe on the hook. She was uncomfortably aware of the fact that her face and Ron's were only inches apart, which brought a blush to her cheeks; nonetheless she wrapped an arm around Ron's shoulders, hung the mistletoe up with her free hand, and looked back at Ron. He did not set her down.

"Thanks, Ron," she said, not really knowing what else to say.

"No problem," he said quietly, turning a light shade of pink, apparently just realizing that he was holding Hermione aloft in his arms.

For a moment they stared at each other. Then—

"Oi! Ron, you git, for the love of Merlin just kiss her and get on with it already!"

Blushing furiously they looked across the room at Fred, who had raised his eyebrows expectantly, and George, who was chuckling rather maniacally to himself. Harry, Ginny, Molly, Arthur, and Charlie were all staring at them. Ron cleared his throat uncomfortably and set Hermione on her feet.

"I, uh, just remembered I have to feed Pig," he said in a rush, his face crimson. With that he dashed up the stairs, leaving Hermione standing in the entryway, alone.

"I forgot to feed Crookshanks," she said in a way not unlike Ron and hurried upstairs.

"Right, both off to feed their pets…" said George dubiously.

"More like a serious need for a snogging session together," added Fred.

"OW!" they yelled collectively as they found themselves being hit repeatedly over the head with a couple of heavy ornaments.

"Don't you two dare talk about them like that!" said Molly furiously, even though deep down she would not have really minded if Ron and Hermione finally got together after all these years. She just didn't want the twins teasing them about it…

Hermione grumpily perched herself on the stairs outside her and Ginny's room and propped her elbows on her knees. She dropped her chin into her hands and sighed.

"Why are my adventures with mistletoe always disastrous?" she wondered aloud.

"Disastrous in what way?" inquired a voice behind her.

Hermione started and turned around, only to see Ron descending the crooked stairway. _Great, just what I need right now…_ She raised her eyebrows as Ron took a seat on the step beside her.

"You can't possibly tell me you aren't embarrassed in the slightest about what happened downstairs," she said flippantly.

Ron's face flushed. "Of course I'm embarrassed, aren't you?"

"Yes, but that's not the point…" she replied avoiding his eyes and turning a faint shade of pink.

An awkward silence ensued for a moment before Ron spoke again.

"Now what's this about mistletoe being disastrous?" he asked.

"Nothing, it's just… ugh…" Hermione sighed and shook her head. "Just, never mind, Ron, you wouldn't understand."

"How d'you know?" he asked, mildly irritated. "At least tell me first, then decide whether or not I understand."

"Oh, fine! Well… you see, last year…" She hesitated. "Last year at, er, Slughorn's party—oh don't look at me like that Ronald, I was going to invite you but you were too busy with Lav-Lav—"

Ron twitched visibly. "Can we get back to the subject at hand?"

"Yes, yes, of course," she said hastily. "Now, mind you, my last encounter with mistletoe was a sight more unnerving than this one. I didn't care for the last situation in the slightest…"

"Hermione, you're rambling," said Ron nonchalantly.

"Sorry… well… you see… you know how McClaggen is… arrogant and self-centered and such… Well…" Hermione's heart began to pound a bit harder. Did she really want to be talking to Ron about this? _Too late now…_ "And, well… we were under the mistletoe and he, er, tried to, erm… tried to kiss me—but I didn't let him!" She added hastily at the severe change in the expression on Ron's face. "And well, he didn't exactly appreciate that and… well… let's just say that I had a rough time escaping…" Her cheeks grew very hot and she did not look Ron in the eye. After a moment she added, "And well, I was rather, erm… disheveled… and, uh… well… I sort of had to hide from him for the rest of the party…" She chanced a glance in Ron's direction and was taken aback to see him sitting there, stony-faced. She cleared her throat uncomfortably. _Well, as long as he's here, you might as well tell him… I'm getting so sick of not knowing where he stands…_ "As I said, entirely different situation this time around, since you're someone I—"

"I'll hex him into oblivion for that, I will," he interrupted. Hermione blinked.

"No, really, Ron, it's fine now, it doesn't matter—"

"Yes it does!" argued Ron. "Hermione, he could've hurt you, you can't let him get away with that! He—"

"Ronald—" Ron cringed, "—I am FINE. Do you honestly believe that I wouldn't have hexed him myself if I had to? In case you've forgotten, I happen to be rather adept at nonverbal spells. I can take care of myself." By now Hermione was getting rather defensive.

"Then why does it still bother you, if you can take such good care of yourself?" he said loudly.

"Because he tried to! I didn't want him to kiss me, and he tried to force himself onto me! The fact that he acted on that impulse is what still bothers me, Ron! And the fact that I KNEW you would never do something like that—and that it should've been YOU with me under that mistletoe, not him—THAT'S what still bothers me!" Hermione was quite crimson at this point. Ron sat there silently, with wide eyes. _Oh, good show, Hermione, you may as well have Petrified him…_ "I told you that you wouldn't understand," she added quietly, getting to her feet to leave.

Ron snatched her hand and pulled her back. "What if I understand now that you've explained it to me?" he asked, getting to his feet.

"No, Ron, that doesn't—"

Hermione stopped mid-sentence. Was that hope she had just glimpsed in those blue eyes? Hermione lowered her gaze to the floorboards.

"Hermione?" he asked uncertainly.

"Ron… what's been going on between us?" she asked shakily. When she looked up she found him blinking back at her as if he'd been Confunded. _Maybe that was the wrong thing to say…_

"I—I dunno…"he answered honestly.

"But, there is… something there… right?" _Lovely, the ball is in his court right now… Oh Merlin, don't let me make a fool of myself._

"Yes…" Hermione's heart gave a brief flutter. "Yes, there is," he said.

For the longest time they just stood there, gazing at each other, trying to figure out what to say next, how the conversation should continue… After a few moments they both lowered their eyes to gaze at the ever-fascinating floorboards.

"You know…" began Ron, "you really did look beautiful at the Yule Ball…" The tips of his ears had gone red as a tomato.

"Thanks…" _Wow, my voice got REALLY quiet…_ "You know, I always thought you were brave whenever you stood up for me, among other things…" _Like a valiant, handsome knight he is, to be honest…_

"Not a problem…"

"And you always look dashing in your Quidditch robes," she blurted. Now they were both red.

"Thanks," he said weakly. There was a pause. "I never really liked Lavender…"

"I never really liked Viktor…"

"I was scared when you were petrified second year…"

"I thought I was going to lose you when you were poisoned last year…"

"You would've missed me?" he asked, looking up suddenly.

Hermione burst out laughing. "Yes! Didn't you get that from the way this conversation's been going?" she grinned.

Ron smiled at her. Then he became serious again, and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Hermione?"

"Yes?" _Please say it, please say it, please say it…_

"Are we… are we—" he sounded as if there was something caught in his throat, "—are we—?"

"In love?" Hermione suggested hopefully. Ron nodded. "Well, yes, I do believe we—"

"YES!" came a chorus of voices from downstairs, causing both Ron and Hermione to jump clean off the floor. They glanced at each other bewilderedly.

"About bloody time!" came Fred's voice.

"Honestly, keeping us in suspense all this time…" chided George's voice.

"Oh like it wasn't obvious," commented Ginny.

"OW!" chorused the twins.

"I thought I told you two never to use those Extendable Ears in my house again!" yelled Mrs. Weasley.

Ron and Hermione shared an amused look and (against their desire to NOT embarrass themselves) they descended the stairs. At the bottom they found a grinning Harry waiting for them.

"Finally, you two were beginning to drive me mad," he said plainly.

Ron looked sheepish; Hermione giggled.

"So…" said Charlie as Ron and Hermione sat down on the sofa together. "When's the wedding?"

"Oh! I call Maid of Honor!" cried Ginny. "And if you don't make Harry Best Man, Ron, I'll hex you!" Ginny and Harry shared a look and blushed slightly.

"What about us?" the twins asked in unison.

"What about you?" said Ron incredulously. "We haven't even had a first date yet and you're already trying to plan our wedding?"

Hermione smiled._ Our wedding… ooooo I love the sound of that!_

"What, do you honestly believe you two won't end up getting married in the near future?" said George.

"That depends on how this war against You-Know-Who goes…"

Everyone turned to look at Mrs. Weasley, who looked to be on the verge of tears. _Oh dear… I can't believe—I actually forgot for a moment there…_

"Molly," Mr. Weasley tried to comfort her.

"It's just—nothing is certain anymore!" cried Molly. "I'm sorry for spoiling the cheer, but I'm simply trying to think realistically—and I don't like it one bit! For all we know, this time next year, some of us might be—"

She broke off and began to cry; the box of ornaments she had been carrying crashed to the floor and shattered. Arthur shushed her and embraced her. Everyone else watched silently.

"We'll be all right, Molly, really—" he soothed.

"How can we know for sure!"

"We can't."

Everyone turned to look at Harry, who had an odd expression on his face.

"Harry," Hermione began, but Ron placed his hand on her arm to quiet her.

"We can't possibly know what will happen tomorrow, or the day after. That's how it'll be as long as Voldemort—" (the Weasleys cringed) "—is alive. That's why…" he glanced at Ginny briefly, "…that's why we need to live our lives to the fullest extent we can. We can't think about who might not be here next year, or what will happen next week. All we have is now—and we have to do all we can to make it worthwhile… no matter what danger we're in," he said, again glancing at Ginny. "Voldemort will fall… because there's just no other possibility. We're going to win this battle. I know it."

A heavy silence followed Harry's small speech. Indeed, his hair appeared a bit wilder by the end of it, and he had a strange glimmer in his eyes. Yet something about what he had said made perfect sense. Everyone unconsciously considered it to be the truth. After a moment, someone spoke up.

"So are we planning a wedding or not?" asked Fred.

Everyone, even Mrs. Weasley, gave a small laugh.

"Maybe another time, dear," she said, considerably calmer.

"But for now, let's bring out some eggnog! We're supposed to be celebrating after all," announced Mr. Weasley.

Charlie went off to the kitchen to prepare the drinks while the others went back to decorating. Ron and Hermione remained in their seats, taking notice of the fact that Harry and Ginny were discussing something in hushed voices as they trimmed the tree. Hermione smiled.

"They'll be back together by the end of the holiday."

Hermione turned to look at a grinning Ron Weasley, rather surprised. He smirked. "Well it was plain in Harry's little speech there… Oh come on, Hermione, I may not be as bright as you, but I'm not daft either," he said.

"I didn't say anything about you being daft, Ron," she said, grinning as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Well you've certainly implied it on more than one occasion," he protested. Hermione gave a snort. "Oh, yeah? What about—" Ron mimicked Hermione in a frighteningly accurate tone, "—it's Levi-O-sa, not Levi-o-SA!"

"Shut up, Ronald," she laughed and smacked him in the chest. "I can't believe you still remember that…"

"Ah-hah! You did it again, you see? Just now! You're questioning my intellectual capabilities!"

"Wow, Ron, I didn't know you knew those words…" said Hermione, fighting back a laugh.

"That's it!"

Hermione let out a squeal and giggled hysterically as she suddenly found herself being tickled. Ron looked highly accomplished; the on-lookers appeared amused.

"Oi!" cried George as Charlie came back with the drinks only to find Ron leaning over a shrieking Hermione on the sofa, both of them laughing.

"Either knock it off, or get a room!" added Fred, earning a threatening gaze from his mother.

Ron and Hermione stopped abruptly and turned a lovely shade of magenta before scrambling to sit back up and look casual. Charlie shook his head, grinning, and served the drinks as Mr. Weasley turned on some music. Hermione couldn't remember feeling so overwhelmed with happiness as she did that night.

Arnold the Pygmy Puff rolled merrily around the floor as Ginny and Hermione turned in that evening. Hermione was rosy-cheeked from all the eggnog (and from the mere fact that she and Ron had finally gotten together) and was still smiling to herself as she climbed into bed. Ginny scooped up Arnold and put him back into his cage before turning to eye Hermione. It took her a moment to notice, and when she did she looked surprised.

"What?" asked Hermione innocently.

"You're in loo-ooove," chimed Ginny in a sing-song voice.

Hermione grinned. "You know it IS your brother we're talking about?" she reminded her.

"Yes, but you're my best friend, so everything works out," said Ginny cheerily.

Hermione smiled to herself and wrapped her arms around her knees. "And what about you? I imagine you and Harry have been discussing quite a bit lately…"

Ginny's face was suddenly tinged with pink. "Well, yes… we'll just have to wait and see how things turn out, now won't we?" she said.

"Well, aren't we the mysterious one," teased Hermione, laying down and closing her eyes.

"Yep, that's me… red-haired and mysterious."

Hermione chuckled. "Good night, Gin."

"Night, 'Mione," said Ginny with a yawn.

It wasn't long after she had lain down that Hermione realized she couldn't fall asleep even if she took a sleeping potion; so instead she pulled on her slippers and crept downstairs to the living room, where the hearth was still a-glow with the last flames of the fire that they had started earlier that evening.

Hermione dropped herself down on the couch. She gave a small shudder. _Goodness, it's cold down here…_ For a long time she merely watched the way the firelight reflected off the gleaming packages under the tree. _It's rather entrancing, actually…_

"Hermione?" came a low voice. _Whoops, there goes my heart again…_

Hermione looked up as a tall figure in a tee shirt and pajama bottoms came to join her on the sofa. "Ron," she breathed. "What are you doing up?" she asked.

"Couldn't really sleep," he replied, motioning for Hermione to lean against him. As she did so, he wrapped his arm around her and rested his cheek atop her head. "You?"

"Same."

They sat silently for a time, curled up together. _This is nice, to finally have him holding me… oh dear, I'm becoming so sappy! Oh curse it all, I don't care anymore! This is just lovely and that's that!_ Hermione closed her eyes and buried her face in his chest. She could hear his heart beating steadily.

"Hermione?" asked Ron quietly. He sounded as if he was getting sleepy.

"Yes, Ron?" replied Hermione, equally drowsily._ I feel so warm now…_

"I love you," he whispered.

Hermione smiled against his shirt. _This is how things were meant to be…_ "I love you, too, Ron…" _My handsome knight…_

By the time the fire had reduced to embers, they had already drifted off to sleep...


End file.
